Coming of Age
by veravoltaire
Summary: This started out as Draco-drabble and evolved into much more. Heightened sexual-attraction and frustration gets the better of two particular 6th year prefects. This is AU/non-canon and will be a multi-chapter story. Rated for Explicit content. You've been advised.
1. Chapter One

**AN**: This started out as Draco-drabble and evolved into much more. This will definitely be a multi-chapter fic. It's strictly **AU/non-canon**. You'll see how and why as you read. Voldemort is not in the picture, screw him. We don't need him. This is a world where the students could grow up and learn at Hogwarts without the threat of Voldemort looming over their heads, starting from fourth year. His plans never worked at the Triwizard Tournament. This takes place **sixth year.**

Basically this is an inside look on a version of Draco Malfoy that I haven't exactly dove into yet. Mostly my Draco's are a little more willing and a bit less angry in my other fics, so this was something slightly different for me. It's a version of him I've wanted to write for a long time though, so here we are. We'll see if Hermione likes this Draco of mine, hm?

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing whatsoever, don't sue.

**Coming of Age  
Chapter One**  
.oOoOoO0OoOoOo.

_April 1st, 1997 – the Courtyard, Hogwarts Castle_

It was a Wednesday, almost in the evening. Draco Malfoy was meandering across the walk to greet Blaise Zabini on the other side. He cut through the grass and – happening to have glanced over – idly observed Hermione Granger, Ginny Weasley and Neville Longbottom all sharing a laugh.

His sharp eyes narrowed in on the vivacious brunette for a split second as the three of them sat there on the bench. Unknowingly, he'd found enjoyment in the sound of her hearty chuckle, inherently oblivious to the way his heart tugged in that direction.

There was something there, something that he couldn't see. It was deep within the barricades of his mind, trapped in a place for discarded thoughts. Draco was completely unable to acknowledge this part of his subconscious but it _was_ there, just waiting to be tapped into.

Three days later, he was sitting round the Common Room with the usual suspects. It'd been long after dinner and the female snakes had just receded to their nests. The young bachelors warmed themselves with a glass of firewhiskey and were chatting mischievously about the witches of the castle.

"You've _got_ to be kidding me," Draco seethed mere minutes into their discussion.

"What? The girl's always got that far-away, dreamy look in those big baby-blues!" Theodore Nott expressed with a smoldering passion. "I'd love to see exactly _how_ dreamy I can get them, you know, like while her pretty mouth is around my cock," he capitulated vulgarly and then gulped some of his beverage.

"She does have gorgeous hair," Blaise added, nodding his head in agreement.

"And another thing," said Theo. "Everyone thinks she's some sort of idiot but from my observations, she's quick and clever."

"Concurred," stated Zabini.

"Well she could be, she _is_ in Ravenclaw after all," Draco rolled his eyes, not really caring for the conversation.

Theo's eyes twinkled deviously and a huge grin stretched over his face. "Here's a question: If you had to pick, who in Gryffindor would you let ride your broomstick?"

"What a _frightening_ idea," Draco's brows furrowed, and he drank his magically chilled whiskey as if to get the bad taste off his tongue.

"I know exactly who I'd pick," Blaise deadpanned, taking a swift sip of his own drink. "Ginny Weasley, so I can spank her freckled white arse for all those times she booted mine out in the pitch."

Both Draco and Theo shrugged, but sincerely understood where their comrade was coming from. The copper-haired Weaselette was a big deal, helping Gryffindor clean-house in just about every tournament. The losses had been aggravating for them all but nobody had been more frustrated than Zabini.

Years prior, they'd begun as vicious enemies, he and Weasley. Their intense dynamic had rivaled even that of the palpable contempt boiling between Draco and Harry Potter. Then somehow over time, the hateful invective they'd mutually shared had oddly morphed into tamer slews of snarky remarks and witty jabs thrown back and forth around the Quidditch pitch.

Before long, this seemingly trivial occurrence started getting _really_ interesting. Out of the blue, their ruthless repartee had now expanded beyond the pitch and straight into the castle, where they'd rousted each other at every turn in corridors and during meals.

At this point, it was crossing over to flirting and everyone could bloody tell they wanted to shag each other senseless. It'd clearly come as no shock just then to Zabini's confidants. Obviously, Draco didn't approve.

"I could _definitely_ see that," said Theodore and when it became apparent that he was literally imagining the visual, Blaise sent a death glare at him.

"Stop seeing it," he ordered but Nott shook his head enthusiastically, laughing like a madman for fun. "You're obnoxious,"

"So this _is_ a life or death situation, am I right?" Draco acutely cut in, yet his words were already beginning to slur slightly from the alcohol. "Because if it weren't, I'm telling you right now I wouldn't come within an inch of any bint gallivanting about in Gryffindor's colors,"

"_Yes. _Draco, it is a life or death situation." Theo said agitated-like. "Someone is _actually_ lifting their wand at you, telling you that you have to fuck a Gryffindor. So mate, who'll it be?"

The silver-blonde remained silent for a moment before trying to speak, "I… I don't – I don't really," his hesitation was getting the better of him and his friends knew it. "I'm not choosing."

"Wha- You'd rather die?" Theodore persisted, his eyebrows nearly skimming his hair-line. He started laughing, totally befuddled by his friend who was finishing up his glass. "You're seriously telling me you'd rather _die_ than have sex with one of those beautiful little kitties?"

Draco gagged in disgust and stood, readying himself for escape. "None of them are beautiful and honestly… yeah." He'd wished Theo would just leave it at that, or that Blaise might change the subject instead. Something, anything because if not he was going to bed.

"Fine," the other boy smirked. "I'd pick Hermione Granger, no question."

He practically recoiled at the name, almost retching once again. "_Ugh_, that's worse than Looneygood,"

Theo was fully offended now, a gasp-like noise emitting from his throat. "Fuck you, Lovegood is hot."

Before Draco could protest further, Blaise tried to intercede, "Actually, Granger's turned out to be… a _sexy_ little thing. It's hard not to notice."

"That is positively ridiculous," Draco conveyed with conviction, blind to the reality once more. "I'm going to bed now, on that note. Please, don't even continue. You both should just stop there before I start regarding you as mentally ill,"

"Oh shut up you twat," Theo spat back at him indignantly. "Rude, that because _you're_ so socially inept, you can't stop yourself from ruining it for the rest of us."

Draco balked, insulted. "I'm not-"

"When it comes to a nice shagging it shouldn't matter about blood purity or status. It's not like you're going to marry any of them." Theo relented.

"You said yourself, you'd found Mandy Brocklehurst to be _really_ pretty," Zabini interjected smugly, referring to when they were speaking of the Ravenclaws.

Nott pointed his finger at the Malfoy heir. "Yes you did and I know for a fact she's half-blood."

"It's not like I'd _actually_ have sex with Brocklehurst," responded Draco, waving his hand in dismissal as he edged towards the end of the wall. "Even if she wanted to,"

Theodore filled his cup half-way with more firewhiskey. "Are you _that_ far up your arse that you wouldn't fuck anyone who isn't in Slytherin?"

"Heh, I guess so." Draco clipped and with that he rounded the corner to the dormitories, a haughty saunter in his step. He was absolutely finished with… whatever _that_ was. He didn't want to think. All he cared about now was for sleep to overtake his mind.

.oOoOoO0OoOoOo.

_It was a misty morning. He was walking through the grounds; the sun was rising, nipping him at his heels as he advanced. He wasn't quite sure his destination, but he was approaching the tree-cover by the Black Lake. _

_When he got to one of the largest trees nearest the water, he noticed an all too familiar mop of messy, molasses curls splayed out over the grass. "What is she doing?" he thought out-loud. _

_Then he noticed she was fast asleep, an open book spread open over her lithe tummy and a small smile pulling away at her heart-shaped lips. _

_She was wearing a snug, white sundress that accentuated her curves and wantonly exposed her very touchable-looking thighs. Her freckled, warm features and slender, sensual body was somehow making his mouth-water. _

_No, this wasn't right. Hermione Granger wasn't actually attractive, was she? How had he not realized?_

Yet, he _did_ know that. Always in the back of his subconscious but he'd never dared entertain it. Why should he start now? He hated her; she hated him – that's just the way it was. She was the epitome of everything he shouldn't like.

Draco despised the Gryffindors, just like his parents did and their parents before them. They were a rag-tag bunch of mangy, self-righteous mongrels who were typically the first ones in line to jump in and be the fucking hero.

Granger had been especially appalling to him at times. It wasn't even really that she was muggleborn but mostly because – without fail – she'd remained Ron Weasley and Harry Potter's ever-faithful swot sidekick.

Weaselbee and Pothead were total morons who used her and yet for whatever bizarre reason, she'd stuck by them. It was sickening to him somehow.

Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed Hermione Granger always had to be right, too eager to know all the answers.

Draco could admit it, albeit begrudgingly; she was a force to be reckoned with in practically everything she did. He would have had no problem sailing at the tip-top of the class with his grades had it not been for that meddlesome wench showing him up at every turn in almost every subject. Instead he'd stayed wading at second, right behind her.

It'd never helped of course, that his father consistently berated him about it during the holidays as if the fact of it all wasn't bad enough.

_"Draco?"_

_He gasped, staggering back in surprise as she awakened. Granger lifted herself off the ground, peering up at him through heavy lashes while she held the book against her stomach. "Wha-What...?" He didn't understand, couldn't wrap his head around her addressing him by his first name. _

_"Why are you acting so strange?" she queried promptly, ascending to her bare feet and suddenly standing before him. Draco – very confused – stuttered some more as he blinked down at her big, honey-pot eyes._

_"…me? Acting strange? Granger, do you know how absurd you sound?" he felt he was being smart, but then she cackled. She fucking cackled right in his face and he hated to acknowledge it but she was absolutely lovely. "I'm certain I don't know _what_ you find so funny,"_

_"You're practically naked!" she shrieked in a harsh whisper. He smirked, determined not to fall for her tomfoolery. He was confident he'd remembered getting dressed before wandering outside, but then he remembered that there was nothing to actually remember because this was a dream. He was without a doubt, _definitely_ in a dream – or a nightmare, depending on your perspective._

_To his horror he found himself clad in only his briefs. "Oh whatever," he huffed. "It's not like I have any reason to be bashful," he turned, flexing his back muscles and arms for show. "I mean, look at me Granger; I'm as they say, fit as a fiddle, I think. Besides, I'm not worried about what you of all people-"_

_As he looked back at her, he was rendered shocked at the sight he was met with. No longer was there a hint of her sundress. It'd seemed to have disappeared into thin air. In replacement was a petal-pink brassiere with matching panties stretched thinly over her supple body._

_"What the f-"_

_Hermione spoke no words as she pressed herself close to him, already running her fingers along the stiffness of his fully-erect shaft. He hissed at her touch, it almost hurt he was so hard but she was being so gentle and…_

_Draco sighed in frustrated agony. Why was this happening to him? He didn't ask for this but damn it all did it feel good. He was holding back, he wanted to give in but... he couldn't._

_His lips parted, a moan escaping him as she pumped his length in her hand. Steadily she was bringing him to ruin. "Why?" he asked, teeth grit._

_She appeared thoughtful for a second, then "Why not?" she countered. _

_It was his turn to laugh now, giddy creases forming at the corners of his eyes but she was still massaging his throbbing stick. "I... uh, I-I did have a sensible argument for why not just a moment ago but… now it doesn't seem so important."_

_"Let go Draco," Hermione whispered._

_"I c-can't," he held her close, his head dipping back in nirvana._

_"Yes you can. Just let it happen, just let it all happen."_

Draco jerked awake, panting and sweaty from his saucy visions. He held his face in his hands, flabbergasted and irritated not just from the dream, but from his painfully real arousal.

Theodore stirred, yawning in his own bed beside him. "You alright?" he croaked.

At first he wasn't sure how to answer, and then, "Yeah Nott, I'm fine. Just... go back to sleep," he ordered. It wasn't quite time for everyone to get up yet but Draco was ready to start his day. There was no _way_ he was going to resubmit himself back to the merciless throes of his subconscious after that and he certainly wasn't going to tell anybody about it.

Matter of fact, he was exceedingly miffed at his so-called friends for putting these outrageous notions in his head to begin with. This was most _definitely_ their fault.

"Yeah whatever," Theo grumbled as he tossed on his side.

Draco slipped quietly into the bathroom but no, he was not going to take care of his… problem. He wasn't sure if he could handle how shameful he might feel afterwards, how uncomfortable he'd be with himself. He'd simply take an ice-cold shower and forget about that nightmare. It'd never happened.

.oOoOoO0OoOoOo.

_April 12th, 1997 – the Library, Hogwarts Castle_

It was after all of his classes when Draco was careening through the aisles of the bookshelves, searching for a specific tome he needed for his Herbology essay. It hadn't taken him very long to find it and once he did, feeling curious he opened it on the spot to briefly peruse the table of contents.

He'd just figured out which chapter would help him the most when he heard… snoring? Well, someone sure was knackered. Draco kind of wondered who it was. If it was Longbottom, he'd enchant him to have even bigger ears, like an elephant. Maybe even a trunk if he was feeling particularly committed.

Closing his book, he turned on his heel walking to the next aisle over at the very back of the library. He almost dropped his parcel when he saw that it was Granger of all people. 'Sweet Salazar, no!' he whined in his mind although he was rendered stunned, his feet not moving and he wasn't able to explain why.

She didn't seem to be _anymore_ but right before, she'd been snoring so loudly and he really almost mistook her for a boy. That part was pretty hilarious, and he decided it'd be great ammunition if ever there was an opportunity. Not that he thought he'd ever be able to talk to her again after…

His eyes scanned her over. He'd found her asleep, how strange that this would happen. Draco was close enough he could see her face but without thinking he stepped forward to see her even better.

He wasn't sure he'd ever been this close to Granger on purpose in his life. Draco had kept his eyes away from her at all costs for the last seven days and now he was _stuck_ here, leering like a creep? What kind of fool was he?

If he really wanted to be foolish, he could reach out right now and move that pesky curl out from view of all of those tiny freckles that dotted her nose and cheeks – as if it was dusted brown sugar atop cake.

A thought crept in through the steel-walls of the barricades and made its way to the forefront of his conscious. He wondered: were there even _more_ freckles hidden beneath her uniform and if so, where were they?

Draco definitely wished he hadn't thought that though, because then even more made their way in and now he was trying to recall if he could remember if she did or didn't have freckles over her body in his dream, erm… nightmare.

Granger's mane of hair rustled and he panicked, his book flying from his hand. It'd hit the table, shuddering it enough and making a somewhat jarring noise that she was rattled awake at once.

Swiftly she noticed the book first and then him. He had zero time to run from his mess.

"Malfoy?" she asked, rubbing at her eyes. "Wha-"

"It's nothing Granger," he sneered and hastily grabbed his disheveled tome from the floor. "That bushy bird's nest on top of your head gave me a fright. I… thought you were a rabid animal,"

Hermione stared him down through his excuse, coming to her senses. Something in Malfoy's demeanor, in his tone of voice – it threw her off. She felt irrevocably unconvinced. "Are you… are you quite sure you're okay?" she nudged timidly, decidedly ignoring his taunting. His stone-grey eyes widened and his jaw clenched, chin jutting out with prideful disdain.

"Do me a favor and get over yourself Granger," he snickered down at her. He was holding the book at his side, ready to walk away. "Not everyone is a wounded victim in need of help, especially not the _mousy_ sort of help from an overbearing, uppity little witch like you,"

Her mouth hung open, aghast. His words actually stung a bit that time, although he'd called her worse.

Still… she chewed on her lip in agitation before letting out an exasperated puff of breath. "Well then, what if you did me a favor _and_ everyone in this library a favor and get your putrid, ferret stink out of here?"

Draco could do nothing but smirk, for this was the outcome he'd wanted. For them to remain as they'd always been: rivals; enemies. He swallowed hard, his dignity along with it. "Gladly, fucking wench,"

He'd clipped his words so tightly, so waspishly. He didn't look back as he made his dramatic exit, hadn't seen how her brows crinkled in contemplation; he never stayed long enough to notice that Hermione Granger's gaze glinted with suspicion and from then on she was intrigued.

.oOoOoO0OoOoOo.

_April 13th, 1997 - the Great Hall, Hogwarts Castle_

The next evening at dinner, Hermione and Ginny took seats across from Harry and Ron who were already tucking in. It was a Saturday, and everyone was comfortable donned in their usual weekend garb.

"And there he was, just _staring_ at me," Ginny had whispered to her right before they sat down. The red-head pulled on her sleeve. "Oh Gods, don't look but he's doing it _again_."

Hermione was so brave as she tried her best not to, but eventually her eyes won out.

"I told you not to look!" Ginevra squealed.

"Look..?" Ron questioned. His mouth was full of turkey leg, which was typical.

"Yeah, who aren't we looking at?" Harry queried nonchalant-like, but his slicing emerald eyes anticipated an answer. Ginny had forever been into the Boy-Who-Lived since she'd first met him when they were smaller. However, after a girl gets ignored for a while, her heart tends to stray elsewhere.

Harry once had a crush on Ravenclaw Cho Chang, but the Chinese beauty and Hufflepuff Cedric Diggory had already fallen for each other in fourth year. When Cedric had rightfully won the Triwizard Tournament, Harry chose to give up on girls until he changed his mind otherwise.

Yet this year, for some reason he couldn't stop looking at Ginevra Weasley. She was his best mate's little sister, it would just be weird… wouldn't it? Damnit, she'd become so attractive to him. They'd always been pals, he and Gin. Harry had always admired her fiery personality, thought it complimented his own. Honestly, it was just a plus that she was gorgeous… but he wasn't sure if he could do that to Ron.

Not only just, but everyone knew that she and Blaise Zabini had a… _thing_ going on. Their blatant flirting had gone on and on all year. Harry really didn't have to ask who they'd just been speaking of. He was kind of being a prick on purpose but he couldn't help himself. He was stark raving jealous.

"Just the usual riff raff," Ginny admitted, rolling her eyes at both the subject and Harry Potter. "Nothing out of the ordinary,"

Hermione's gaze involuntarily shifted back to Zabini, then to Theodore Nott beside him and then to –

Draco Malfoy appeared to be just as shocked as her when their eyes met and hurriedly, he turned his attention away from the Gryffindor table.

Shit, why did she do that?

She really wished she hadn't already known the answer. Honestly, she couldn't get that moment in the library out of her head since it happened yesterday. It wasn't that she enjoyed the exchange, obviously. Hermione could do well without having to interact with a Malfoy ever again, but there was just… something about him, something there.

He wasn't just his regular Draco-self. Well, on the outside he'd tried his hardest to come across that way but Hermione could feel something in the air, a tension. He was on the verge of spontaneous eruption. Her logical mind was leaning towards one theory she didn't actually want to prove.

Similar to Zabini, Malfoy was radiating the same ferocious, alpha-like aura, sort of like… he was on the hunt and she was potential prey.

Regardless, Hermione felt there was no way that this could be the case. It just _had_ to be something else. Maybe it was just a fluke or a phase and after today, he'd never give her any reason to further be concerned.

As was her nature unfortunately, she had the innate need to figure out the truth.

Sometimes truths come at high prices. Would it be worth it?

.oOoOoO0OoOoOo.

**AN**: The next scene I'm thinking happens directly after dinner. Perhaps Hermione will go after him, but I haven't made a decision yet. What do you think will happen? I'd love to hear your thoughts, they are everything to me. Thank you for reading :o)


	2. Chapter Two

**AN**: Since a lot of you are extremely concerned, I'll say this once for the record – Ginny and Harry are endgame. There will be moments of Blaise/Ginny but I have it in my head that she'll end up with Harry.

Thank you for the lovely reviews! You guys are everything!

**Coming of Age  
Chapter Two**  
.oOoOoO0OoOoOo.

_April 13__th__, 1997 – the Prefect's Lounge, Hogwarts Castle_

After she and Harry were done rounds, Hermione told him she was heading back up to the Prefect's Lounge to fetch her belongings, bidding him a good night. She'd left her books and bag at the round table where they had their team meetings, having been studying before Harry came to meet her.

She reached the giant painting of the socialites having a picnic on a sunny day and was about to recite the password when she heard voices – Draco Malfoy and Tracey Davis' to be exact. She recognized them instantly, fairly easy since they'd been going to school together for almost seven years now.

Hermione's curiosity was kicking in at full-force as she slipped behind a tapestry, hell-bent on figuring out some things. Really, she felt quite foolish but her thirst for knowledge outweighed her loss of pride. She felt like such a snake right now, listening in the shadows.

Davis and Malfoy were both the Slytherin prefects of their sixth year class. When they did rounds, they usually started from the Lounge on the fifth floor, made their way up to the Astronomy Tower and down again, checking everywhere in between – or so they said. She would find out.

They too, had also been making their way back towards the Lounge.

"Damnit, I hate that walk. I'm so glad it's over, for tonight anyway," Draco could be heard complaining. Hermione tried peeking out from her hiding place and saw that Tracey was inching closer to an unsuspecting Malfoy.

Suddenly the girl latched onto his arm and he seemed shocked for her to do so. "Draco why _didn't_ we do anything fun in the Tower? You avoided me first chance we got! It could have been just like old times,"

"Ugh, I knew you were going to do this," he muttered, rolling his eyes and Tracey was clearly offended by that. "_Because_ Davis, I have no interest in being your rebound after a measly Hufflepuff's sloppy seconds. Not only that, you were only dating Nott a mere month ago. You and I are history, and it should really stay that way, don't you agree?"

Tracey – still clutched to his bicep – unwound her fingers and let him go. "Yes, I guess you're right." She conceded, yet her misty eyes gave away how upset she was. "Sorry, I just missed what we had."

"What we had was nice, Trace but that was a long time ago. A lot has happened since then and it wouldn't be right."

Hermione steadily released the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding in.

Wow. She honestly felt a little impressed by Malfoy for being so loyal to his friend. If she hadn't been hiding so sneakily (and if the subject matter hadn't been that of underage canoodling), she might have considered awarding house points to Slytherin.

"Alright," said Davis. "Its fine, no bother, we'll never speak of it."

"Good. I have to go inside and get my Quidditch gear and broomstick. You can wait out here for me if you must,"

"Um… no, I'll be okay. I sort of want some time to think on my own for a bit anyway."

"You do that Davis," he replied somewhat snarky and said the password to the portrait. When he went through the entryway Tracey was skulking away, mumbling to no one about snide gits and their consistent class.

Apparently, the girl wished for Malfoy to have a little less sophistication.

Hermione – on the other hand –very much wished she hadn't left her things inside the Lounge. Why hadn't she noticed his broomstick or gear? That would have been extremely helpful… or perhaps he'd set them down in there after she'd already left with Harry. That actually was the most likely.

She was going to just wait until he was through getting his belongings and gone as well but he didn't show for a while. It was starting to get really late and all together, Hermione debated leaving her own things overnight in the Lounge.

However, she decided that would be far more inconvenient and opted to face her fears.

She went inside and there he was, contentedly reading as he sat on the couch. He looked very relaxed as he perused the page he was on, yet the most notable thing about his appearance was that of the black reading-spectacles he wore.

Hermione had seen this look on him plenty since he'd gotten glasses the year before but she'd never felt so inclined to admire how stupid-hot he really looked with them perched over the bridge of his nose.

Once he realized she'd come in an expression of sheer terror lit up his entire face. It was almost comical as he straightened himself up, fumbling with his book. He fidgeted, tousling up the front of his hair.

Before he could say a word she was already asking questions. "What are you doing? You _do_ know its past curfew, yeah?" Even though they were both prefects, Hermione still had wanted to pave the way to being Head Girl the following year.

That'd meant giving authority when needed, even if she had to occasionally reprimand students who were on her level scholastically. It's not like she could dock points from other prefects, but she could still nudge them with friendly reminders.

Nevertheless, this was _Malfoy_ she was dealing with so friendly never came easy, or ever came at all.

"I-" he cleared his throat, seemingly flabbergasted from her presence. "I was only finishing up the end of this chapter and then leaving. What's the big deal? You're up here too, aren't you?" Draco almost sounded bored with her, exuding a lackadaisical demeanor that was far-more tame than their encounter the previous day in the library.

Hermione – settling on a more tentative approach – slowly began gathering her things as she queried, "Well… what are you reading?" If possible, Draco's eyes widened further and his lips parted in surprise. "Must be good, is all," she added, zippering one side of her bag.

He hesitated, not sure how he wanted to speak to her. He wouldn't have right away expected Granger to be so… cordial, after how he'd acted yesterday. Perhaps he hadn't been rude enough; perhaps it had been too long since he'd called her a mudblood.

Perhaps he didn't want to.

"The Serpent of Wind-Falls Mountain," he relayed.

"_Ah_, that's quite the epic you have there," Hermione said and his brows furrowed, almost glaring when he looked at her. He wished she might just leave already so he wouldn't have to choose how to behave, because right now he didn't know what to do. She was making conversation and his gut was screaming at him, telling him to sneer and bring her down a few notches.

Unfortunately, his lips were saying everything he didn't want them to.

"_You've_ read the Serpent of Wind-Falls Mountain?" he didn't believe her… sure, Hermione Granger was known to read a lot. It was also rumored that she'd devoured every single book in the library but Draco wouldn't have guess she, of all people would be interested in a four-centuries-old novel about a cursed, wizard prince who ruled villainously from his castle on a mountain.

It was based on a true story and was highly popular amongst almost all Slytherin males, as in the story it says the prince attended Hogwarts as a snake in his youth. Draco had read it as a small child but since then, had found himself wanting to reread it. He'd only just cracked it open at the beginning of the week and was already towards the end.

"Why yes, I-I did. In second-year," she responded, briefly remembering how especially cruel he was to her that year. "It's excellent. Actually, the prince reminds me of you a bit."

"Does he now?" he asked, sarcasm in his tone and she blushed at that. Why was she doing this? Nothing good could come from them speaking civilly to one another. He was already being far-too nice to her. If they weren't careful they might cause muggle-hell to freeze over.

It was just odd; Granger was standing there idly, staring into space while her packed bag sat waiting on the table. Why wasn't she leaving? Better question: why wasn't _he_ leaving?

Draco closed his book abruptly. "Anything else I can help you with, or have you had your fill of invading people's privacy for the day?" She bristled at his words and he stood, tossing the novel in his bag. He threw that over his shoulder and picked up his broomstick. Hermione stood frozen, unsure as he slowly stepped towards her. His mouth pulled into its typical, criminal-like smirk and the electricity in the room crackled. "You do know that the last thing on this _earth_ I'd fancy is for us to speak like this, like we're bloody pals," his silver-eyes churned stormily as he allowed himself to get closer to her.

"I wasn't, I-" she stammered, trying to find her footing with words. "We _weren't_, you-" she couldn't form a complete sentence.

He was breathing so heavily and she could feel puffs of air upon her face. Hermione bit her lip, cringing at his sudden proximity. She didn't move but blinked up into his treacherous depths, feeling somewhat hurt and confused. Draco continued, "Why would I even want to _look_ at such a feral, and unrefined wench like you? You're nothing to me," he spat harshly. Hermione seethed with rage but for an unknown reason, let him continue his deplorable revilement. Draco inched nearer and nearer, allowing his long index finger from his free hand to menacingly graze the length of her arm while he whispered towards her ear. "All you are and ever will be, is a disgusting, over-achieving mudblood bitch who never knows when to un-stick her nose out of people's business… especially _mine_," Draco dipped in, submersing himself in her curls and inhaled her essence, fully relishing in her pheromones. He'd meant to freak her out by doing this, like a true miscreant would. He wanted her to believe he was a real creep (well, he _was_)… yet he hadn't realized how obvious it'd be that he enjoyed every bit of it. His whole body had vibrated from the sensation her scent gave him and she noticed. He backed away from her but didn't break eye contact. "Stay out of my life Granger, it's for the best."

She'd stared him down the whole way through, throwing daggers. They both swallowed hard, and Hermione's amber-gold eyes glittered, stung with tears that threatened to spill but definitely wouldn't. Draco had built himself up to a sneer but she could tell that all of it was an act.

He was going to leave it at that and walk out, so she took a deep breath and taking her chances, she relented onward. "And how much of that am I actually supposed to believe is true?"

Hermione Granger, of all things, was _not_ dumb. She definitely wasn't naïve either. Well, usually anyway. When it counted, she felt she wasn't.

It counted now, because from where she was standing, she was pretty positive that Draco Malfoy was into her. Mainly because he was trying really hard to prove that he wasn't. Also because he'd just had his body practically against hers, sliding a finger down her arm and smelling her hair. He'd done it all while whispering about how much she disgusts him but after how strongly his body reacted to her scent it was going to be hard to convince her otherwise.

"What did you say?" he turned back around, his eyes flashing murderously.

"I _think_ you heard me,"

Draco started nervous-laughing, attempting to be nonchalant. "How much of it are you supposed to believe? _All_ of it, Granger, I meant every word."

Hermione harrumphed, "Yeah, okay sure. You say that, but I don't think you did."

His eyes must have rolled to the back of his skull. He still clung to his broomstick and bag for dear life, his sanity somewhere in the mix. He wanted to toss his annoying belongings down in frustration and teach her a lesson. They weren't thirteen or fourteen anymore, and he'd never let her show him up physically ever again. He could dominate her in a split-second.

"Oh trust me, I meant it," he tried, hoping to the Gods she would let this argument die. She was crossing into dangerous waters, completely and utterly aggravating him to the core. All he wanted to do was grab her, shake her and make her shut up about it. How he would make her shut up, well… only one thing came to mind and it was the exact opposite of what he was trying to prove. If he did _that_ then Granger would know she was right and it would all be over for him. "And if you don't stop your nonsense right now, I-I'm-"

He was struck bewildered when Hermione unbuttoned her black cloak and let it fall behind her to a heap on the floor. Underneath was something Draco was not very used to seeing on this particular witch. A tight, black top tucked into a slate-grey, pleated skirt.

No, he was absolutely not used to… whatever this was. He'd seen her in the uniform skirts before but this one was slightly different – shorter. Draco's cock stiffened and his ears buzzed, unable to comprehend how soft her skin looked.

"_What_, Malfoy? What are you gonna do?" she questioned sassily, lightly tossing her long ringlets over her shoulder. He gazed on at her, amazed as she scooped up her bag and cloak, and headed past him to the exit. She paused in front of him, getting in his face and crinkling up her freckled nose in distaste. "You're not going to do anything, because all _you_ are is a no-good, inadequate _liar_ and a _coward_. Bravo then, good luck with that,"

He was left there – beguiled, mystified. It took every part of him not to unbuckle his trousers right then and pleasure himself thinking about how sexy Hermione Granger just was.

Yes, he was done for alright... and by his calculations, so was she.

.oOoOoO0OoOoOo.

**AN**: Please let me know what you guys think so far! I'm sorry if it's rubbish! Much love :0)


	3. Chapter Three

**AN**: I like to imagine Blaise Zabini as a prim and proper John Boyega - like Finn from Star Wars - I'm not sure why. I think I just find him very handsome and it's also somewhat interesting to picture him in the green, silver and black Hogwarts uniform and such.

**Just FYI**: the scene later on gets a little intense, and I wanted to warn you that there is some slight harassment. Thanks again for the excellent reviews! You guys seriously rule – so, so much.

**Coming of Age  
Chapter Three**  
.oOoOoO0OoOoOo.

_April 15__th__, 1997 – the Third Floor Corridor, Hogwarts Castle_

Ginny Weasley stepped out of the Charms classroom with a few of her fifth year friends and they all began walking to the stairwell that led to the second floor. They'd been idly chatting about Flitwick's assignment when they reached the landing, not knowing that Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini were talking to each other in the corner of the corridor.

"We've got to go this way," said Georgiana Wiltshire, turning to Blythe Rodgers. Both were beautiful dirty-blondes from Ravenclaw house. Tamzin Cringle, who was in Gryffindor with Ginny started leaning towards the other two.

"Me as well," Cringle told her. "Sorry, it's just quicker this way to the Divination Tower and you've got to get yourself to practice,"

"That's alright," replied Ginny. "I'll see you lot later,"

"See ya Gin," they all chorused, traipsing in the other direction.

Nott was nudging Zabini in the ribs and they both chuckled, following after the red-head. As they got closer, Nott drawled from behind her, "My, my – who _are_ your pretty friends Miss Weasley? Because recently, I've been aching something dire for a sweet little Ravenclaw bird I can stick it in _and_ one of your girlfriends would do, absolutely,"

"Ugh, honestly you're just horrid and vile," she relayed in all seriousness, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

"Isn't he though?" Blaise chimed from beside Theo as they fell into step with Ginny. She just rolled her eyes at the Italian, a hint of a smirk gracing her lips. "What? Now I'm vile too?"

"You've always been vile," she responded, snickering and Blaise grinned.

"Ah, but you see, I'm vile for far different reasons than my moronic friend here,"

"Oi…!" Theo yelped from the side and suddenly they eased up, walking slower.

Zabini continued, "I'm vile because I'm your enemy out in the pitch," his dark eyes were gleaming so sincerely and especially more kind than he'd ever dared look at her before. Ginny was entranced by the warmth he was radiating, her expression very curious. "Not because I treat women like objects, or prizes to be had. I treat them all with understanding, respect and dignity. You are our equals, if not better than us useless men all together. My mother taught me that well,"

Now Theodore was rolling his eyes, having been raised by strictly his father who was quite the misogynist at that – the very opposite of how Blaise grew up. The only woman Nott senior had ever spoken nicely about was that of his late wife, Theo's mum.

Ginny was aghast, starting to laugh. "Whatever you're trying to prove to me, Zabini it's _not_ going to work; I couldn't possibly believe a word from your mouth, not after the slimy, wretched way the both of you, and the rest of your snake-mates play Quidditch. I wouldn't be surprised if you've all along, been treating your _grades_ in the same manner," she snorted.

"Oh _please_, Ginevra," drew Blaise and her tawny eyes lit up with hostility. "We only cheated you that one, particular game. It was a… moment of weakness for the entire team and we paid for it, you know that."

"I beg your bloody pardon, _Blaise_ but where in your right mind do you get off thinking you can address me by my first name? I-I _never_ gave you the assumption-"

"I guess that's the problem, isn't it?" he interjected, shimming his shoulder against hers. She got lost in the depths of his ebony orbs once again and she found herself unable to breathe. "I'm _not_ in my right mind, and I haven't been for a while… and I do believe it has _everything_ to do with you." He'd spoken oh so softly, his ring and pinky fingers lightly intertwining with hers for a moment that seemed like forever to Ginny.

She golly well-damned didn't know what to make of this. Blaise was giving her… funny feelings. It made her uncomfortable. She wasn't supposed to think him, of all people could be charming and-and _attractive_.

Even so, there was only one face that lingered in her head, one set of green eyes and a lightning-bolt scar filling her conscious – like he always did – as she watched Zabini and Nott turn the corner and retreat down the intersecting corridor.

.oOoOoO0OoOoOo.

_April 15__th__, 1997 – the Courtyard, Hogwarts Castle_

'Who the fuck does that barmy bint think she is, calling me a liar, and a _coward_ of all things…?' Draco was fumigating to himself as he sat in the grass, perched against his favorite tree. He'd pretended nothing happened for the rest of the weekend but after he'd awakened that morning, the memory of Granger's emotionally-charged heckling and sexy skin-exposing when they were in the Prefect's Lounge flooded him. Nothing he was doing was helping to distract from it, not even some light reading. 'I'm no coward,' he tried to believe, but inside he was contending with the possibility that she might be right.

Maybe he really was a coward.

Well, he _had_ been, at times but damn it all: he wasn't going to let some invasive little muggleborn with wild hair call him a coward like that and get away with it. No, no, no – he would teach her a lesson, alright. She was nothing to be afraid of.

And Draco wasn't a liar either. He still detested Hermione Granger, more so now than ever. He _hated_ how she made him feel, how vulnerable he'd get, how ferociously turned-on he'd recently felt around her.

He was in control and he wasn't going to let her or some off-the-wall, wet-dream he'd had infiltrate his brain and twist him all up. He would prove to her, once and for all that he held no interest in bedding her, because he _didn't_ – right?

He would show her how sick she made him, how much she truly disgusted him, because she _did_.

Granger might be attractive in some bizarre way, but that didn't mean he fancied her or _anything_ of the sort.

It didn't.

He swore it fucking didn't.

Oh Salazar's fuck.

.oOoOoO0OoOoOo.

_April 15__th__, 1997 – the Library, Hogwarts Castle_

Hermione sat studying and taking notes out of some books she'd checked out. Her quill was pointed to her cheek as she concentrated on the words in front of her, darting back and forth as she kept finding good points to jot down.

Her other hand was holding a page open on one of the larger tomes she'd picked, fumbling with the corner of it as a habit. It was getting very late. She was getting so sleepy, and wasn't as alert as she usually was when someone snuck up behind her. His arm was tempestuously ascending down the length of hers, resting his long, pale digits over her much smaller hand.

She didn't have much time to react when she felt his hardened figure leaning against her back. Her long hair was pulled into a pony-tail and his warm mouth drifted to her pulse-point, breathing her in and this time Hermione was the one who'd practically vibrated in her chair at the sensation. He was whispering, "I'm glad I found you here," she could feel his smirk against the shell of her ear.

Hermione was so unsure; her eyebrows were furrowed in complete annoyance at him but her heart was racing so fast, and she could feel her nether-regions thrum like an instrument. Her panties had become so wet and sticky, an unhinged part of her wanted to reach down and ease the dull ache below her thighs. How was it that this felonious scum could – just like that – have her melting like a snow-flake in the sun?

"What the _hell_ are you-"

"Shh," he hushed her promptly. "I think you know _exactly_ what I'm doing Granger," his fingers were brushing hers and he allowed his other hand to smooth some of her hairs away from her bare neck. "You were practically begging me to rise up to the challenge, don't deny it."

She swallowed; her throat was suddenly very dry. He _was_ right about that. She'd seductively flaunted her body to him on purpose in hopes of redeeming the inner-humiliation he'd made her feel as he stood there and announced such hateful and foul things about her.

What had been even more maddening was that she could tell Malfoy was pretending the entire time. He was trying to convince himself just as much as convince her that he wasn't so clearly sexually attracted to her. She'd been standing up for herself when she de-cloaked, but what she hadn't foreseen was that he'd end up carrying on with this trifling game. She thought he'd have quit, too ashamed from being shown-up by her yet again.

This was _her_ fault. If she hadn't have taunted him like a red-flag to a bull, he would have never come after her. He would have just gone back to ignoring her, probably.

"I-I… didn't think you'd _actually_ do something like-" she gulped again, feeling defenseless. Her wand was in her cloak's pocket all the way on other edge of the table.

"Like what Granger? Kitty-cat's got your tongue?" he tugged roughly on her tail, causing her to emit a small gasp and Draco captured her around the neck, skimming the tips of his fingers over the soft, dewy skin there and loosening up her tie. "Am I more… unpredictable than you previously thought?" He stretched underneath her collar so he could feel more of her supple décolletage. Hermione only half-moaned in flustered distress and Malfoy appeared extremely pleased with himself. He hastily unfastened two of her buttons. "Look who's a damned coward now,"

"Stop, stop it," she muttered quietly, gazing up at him with watery eyes. She really, really did not want any attention put on them. It wouldn't do to have stories, or rumors of any kind circling about the school. Everyone would know how close Hermione Granger allowed Draco Malfoy to get, and even if they labeled him as a sexual-deviant or assaulter, she would still be known as _that_ girl and she did _not_ want that either, no not at all. No public pity or remorse for her, thank you very much. She would just solve this problem herself.

Draco got even closer; his wetted, pillowy mouth hummed against her pulse-point and Hermione squirmed in her seat, unable to fathom how increasingly aroused she was becoming. "I could break your pretty little neck, right here, right now if I felt so inclined," he said with his lips still lingering hotly above her skin and she hated to admit that the feeling of him was an utter delight to her soul and sent electric sparks catapulting through her very insides.

She'd never ever felt this way before. It was scaring her.

How she felt about Draco Malfoy right then, was scaring her.

"I could break it any time I wanted, because I don't care if you die," he held her in his grasp, running the tip of his nose along where her artery was.

"You're no murderer, Draco," she managed to spew out with her head still lolled. He stared down at her, shocked. His grey eyes were flashing with anger but there was something else there beneath that.

"You don't know that," he ground out, pulling her backwards even further. "And you do _not_ get to call me that,"

"Then do it," she was partly grinning. "Do it Draco,"

"Ugh, I _just_ said-"

His grip loosened temporarily and Hermione took the upper-hand, rising from her chair and completely taking him off guard.

"Kill me Draco, snap my_ pretty neck_," she persisted ruthlessly, coquettish as she backed him into the stacks of books behind him. Neither of them could believe what she was doing, as she ran her hands along his chest and inched herself right into him. "Do it, do it Draco," she snickered slyly and he didn't say anything yet, simply continued to let her throw herself at him. "But you won't will you? And why is that, I wonder?"

Draco swallowed and his Adam's apple was bobbing in his throat. Hermione eyed it with keen fascination before pulling on his tie and bringing him closer to her face. He smelled so bloody good, like earthy-moss and pine mixed with the essence of a rainforest waterfall.

Ever so slightly, his fingers were grazing at her thigh. He was peering at her with such a genuine look of unsureness and she leaned in, kissing his pulsing-point like he'd done to her. His body lurched forward a bit at the contact, letting his fingertips gingerly traverse downwards to her knee and bringing her leg up over his hip.

Her mouth fell open as she felt a stiff bulge beneath the material of his trousers, pushing straight into her maidenhood. His hand then traveled underneath her skirt, bringing the material up as he roamed along the underside of her incredibly soft, yet firm bum. Hermione felt a shiver, instinctually crushing herself more into him, as close as she could and Draco groaned, rolling his raging arousal right back against her dripping mound through her panties.

She tried not to but she moaned out-loud at that and he spread his palm over her mouth, stopping his sensual movements abruptly. This had gone too far, he was thinking. What had he done? He'd lost all self-control and the jig was up - it was quite obvious to Granger what he very-well thought about her.

This wasn't what he'd been trying to accomplish, no. He was a fool, a jackass, the joker and the joke was on him. He roughly grabbed her shoulders, briefly shaking her. "What do you take me for, a fool?" Draco forced her away from him, straightening his robes and donning his hood. She was immediately disappointed and so confused. He glared down at her menacingly, his tall form looming over her much more petite one. "Don't ever touch me again, Granger or you'll pay."

Malfoy was gone and then Hermione was now left to wallow in her own pity and self-deprecation.

What was she thinking?

She wasn't, she… she _wanted_ him. Hermione bloody wanted him and at this point, she rather wished he'd give in. Would he ever speak to her again? She felt like she might die on the inside. What was this feeling?

For a moment there – before she packed her things up and sulked back to the dormitories – Hermione finally wept freely some tears she'd needed to shed for a great while now.

After this, she'd never let Draco Malfoy make her cry, not ever again.

.oOoOoO0OoOoOo.

**AN**: This chapter was much shorter than I'm used to stopping at. I'm sorry if this is total rubbish and I do hope you guys like it so far! You all are great! I hope you have a great week and weekend :o)


	4. Chapter Four

**AN**: Whelp, here… _this_ is. I don't know what to make of this chapter. I always think this story is going one way and then it goes another! I guess that's just what happens with writing! This chapter is also a shortie and FYI - Easter break in this fic happened in late March, right before the story begins. Cheers to you all, beautiful readers! Thank you so much for your continued support!

**Coming of Age  
Chapter Four**  
.oOoOoO0OoOoOo.

_April 19__th__, 1997 – the Great Hall, Hogwarts Castle_

It was Friday, the school week was almost over and Draco and Hermione had been completely ignoring each other since their steamy incident in the library that Monday.

They'd both been content to leave whatever had happened between them end right then and there… or at least, that's what Hermione _assumed_.

Yet as she was munching down her breakfast, she felt a pair of eyes on her. Not Harry's or Ron's, not Ginny's or any Gryffindor's but _his_ eyes.

Inconspicuously Hermione dared herself to glance over at the Slytherin table. Their gazes locked – silver to gold. Electric waves of excitement and anticipation were instantly rolling through their bodies simultaneously.

Draco was smirking like a devil and one of her eyebrows quirked up, furious at him that he thought he could just willy-nilly look at her like _that_ but also very intrigued at the notion this gave her.

Mostly this made her very frightened… what if he'd decided he was going to come after her? She couldn't tell whether he'd come after her to kill her, or take her… or _both_.

Not that she'd ever let Draco Malfoy maim her in any way before she'd hex his balls to melt clean off. Hermione would keep her wand very, very close until this all blew over.

Throughout the rest of the school day, during classes and at meals Malfoy had stared her down when no one else was looking. He would sneer, his eyes would gleam dangerously and his lips would twitch in disgruntlement at the impeding hours.

Hermione didn't think she fancied herself alone, but after dinner she'd needed to get on with sending a letter she'd procrastinated on for two days already. It was a letter to her parents that held a great deal of information on what they needed to know for when she'd be arriving back home for the summer holiday.

At the very start of break, Hermione was going on a trip with her family to Menorca in the Balearic Islands of Spain for two weeks. She honestly couldn't wait to get some decent sunshine and get away from it all for a little while.

She hoped she'd survive Hogwarts long enough to get there.

When dinner was through, Hermione set off for the Owlery on her own, her wand tucked into her skirt.

There, she found Pigwidgeon – Ron's owl. She was quite certain he wouldn't mind if she borrowed Pig to deliver the letter, having done so several times before. Hermione fed the clumsy creature a treat and he was off, flying to Hampstead.

She descended the stairs, returning to the outdoors where it was inching towards dusk. It would be time soon, to follow through with her duties as prefect and meet up with Harry to do rounds.

Suddenly a dark, hooded figure grabbed her and pushed her into the stone-walls of the tower she'd just exited.

Hermione let out a shriek, she was so startled but his fingers were over her mouth in a millisecond. She was still trying to reach for her vine-wood wand when he was already raising his black hawthorn, speaking the incantation, "_Muffliato_," to hoist a silencing-shield all around them.

Draco's black hood was casting a darkened shadow over his face, but she could see his churning grey eyes glistening from beneath. He was almost chuckling, a ferocious way about him as his released his big hand from her lips and clasped it behind her head instead.

Hermione glowered up at him, her teeth grit as she bit the inside of her cheek in anxiety.

His body completely pinned hers to the wall, his pelvis pressed against her, almost lifting her whole arse up with his hips. Draco eyed his prize all around before letting his other hand travel underneath her cloak where he palmed the underside of her pert breast over her white button-up.

A mewling moan fell out of Hermione without her permission and this seemed to encourage Draco even further as he continued to the waist-band of her black skirt. Once there, he found her wand immediately and disposed of it, tossing it to the side so she couldn't get to it.

"Just _what_ in Merlin's name is your plan this time, Malfoy?"

"Hm, so… back to just Malfoy again, is it?" he sassed her and she was unamused.

"You've long-since crossed the line into criminal territory, you know," Hermione ground out, indignant and ready to punish him. "I could have you _expelled_, straightaway."

Draco was snickering darkly, finding humor in her threats. He grasped her long braid that was behind her and brought it in front, smoothing it down over her chest. "Well, why would you go and do a thing like that?" he drawled hazy-like, reaching to her buttons where he unfastened several in one swift motion, sending two of them dangling from the seams. This revealed to him the white-satin brassiere that was hiding two very perky, very soft looking globes underneath and she gasped, trying to cover herself. "Where is that Gryffindor bravery you're so proud of now, Granger?" He batted her hands away and he lightly brushed the tips of his fingers at the space in between them but to her, he'd felt like fire to the touch. "I don't think you're going to do _anything_ to stop this…" His caresses seared her skin as he slowly let his hand ravish over her softness. She felt so good to him, he was breathing so heavy. He was gyrating his hips against hers, rocking his tremendously ridged manhood straight into her sex like they'd done in the library. Hermione's lips were parted, as she blinked up at him, her eyes lidded seductively. "To stop me from…" he gulped hard, and ever so gingerly his thumb grazed across her pebbled nipple, right over the thin material of her bra. She cried out in delight, pleasure surging through her as her entire being was sent hurdling into space. "Mmmf," he purred, slipping her tiny, sensitive earlobe in his mouth.

Instantly she got the chills, her body acting on its own and grinding herself back against him. He didn't stop his meticulous assault on her nipple, pinching and pulling on it as he licked the outer shell of her ear. Hermione couldn't stop herself from the small sounds emitting from her throat as he wetly kissed a trail from collarbone to chin, pausing and giving her a feverish expression.

Gently his nose skimmed hers, their mouths barely an inch apart. Draco shuddered, groaning at the feel of her against him and he roughly bucked his hips again, crushing his throbbing stick into her as close as he could get through his pants.

He was holding her jaw, about to say something else, something unnecessary but Hermione had enough. She brought one of her hands up to the collar of his cloak, pulling his lips straight onto hers. At once he was kissing her back and their mouths melded together in a fierce, rhythmic tandem. They were so flushed, and Draco whimpered lightly as she sucked at his bottom lip, giving it a nibble. His hood had fallen down and her hand was wrapped up in his silvery-blonde hair. His tongue crashed through her entrance and laved along the crevices of her mouth, tangling with hers in a scorching bond that stopped time.

The sun had set over the horizon and Harry would be wondering where Hermione was. Really, she'd rather be thinking of the beautiful snake Prince that somehow slithered his way into her arms but if she didn't want to raise suspicion, and if she wanted to be Head Girl next year, she'd really have to get her rounds responsibilities over with for the night – and so did Draco.

Reluctantly, she stopped him, their lips unsticking as she edged her face away from his. He looked down at her, puzzled. "We… have to get on with rounds," she told him. They were breathing so hard, their chests rising and falling together and then he released her.

Draco brought his hood back over his head and whispered, "Meet me in the Lounge when you're done," Hermione could tell it was an order and she found herself desperately willing to comply.

Before she realized how many questions she had for him, he was already sauntering back to the castle. She guessed it could wait until later. Hermione didn't think she wanted to ruin the mystery of what the hell was even going on between them but just as well, she was dying to know if he could also feel the same enrapturing but confusing emotions she did while his mouth was devouring hers.

In the shadows of the darkened sky, behind the corner of a wall lurked Theodore Nott. They hadn't ever noticed him but he'd watched the entire thing, having followed Malfoy on a whim led by his curiosity.

Draco had been acting strange all week and when he'd slipped off in silence after dinner, Theo couldn't help but want to know what kind of secret shenanigans his fellow pureblood pal was up to.

And sweet, Salazar's luck, he did _not_ regret it. Nope, not one bit. He could not wait to play head games with Draco later. It was everything he could do not to go barreling after him right that second.

Momentarily, he thought about catching up with Granger and messing with her, getting her feathers ruffled up a bit but in the end, he let the opportunity go. Theo headed back inside and straight to the dungeons where he hadn't yet decided whether he would keep his lips zipped for now, or tell at least Zabini of his most scandalous discovery.

.oOoOoO0OoOoOo.

_April 19__th__, 1997 – the Astronomy Tower, Hogwarts Castle_

Draco Malfoy had made his mind up about Hermione Granger.

Well, he _had_.

That was until his lips were on hers and he was kissing her.

All week he'd went back to ignoring her, only… she was all that was filling his mind.

When he awoke that morning, he found he'd come to a decision, or a goal rather. He wanted to bed Granger, at least once. This way, he thought he might be able to rid himself of this preposterous infatuation he'd somehow achieved over the past couple of weeks.

His plan was simple. Find her alone, ensnare and ravish her until she gave into him. It wasn't like he couldn't tell how much she seemed to want it when they were in the library. She may have been playing like she was some sort of _devil's advocate_ or whatever you may, but Draco _knew_. Granger had a damn good poker face, however not when he'd had his rock-solid length jutting against her clothed slit under her skirt while they were pressed together behind the stacks.

She'd _moaned_ from that.

Draco didn't want to ignore her. He wanted to make her moan again.

However, when he'd callously pinned Granger to the wall, rubbing her shapely body all over he couldn't help but think how right it felt, the two of them. When they shared that kiss, there was nothing stopping that certain… _spark_ he'd felt, and he knew she felt it too.

It terrified him. He wasn't sure if he could go through with his original plan. He didn't think he could trust himself to forget about her afterwards, positive he was already growing to care for her in some sick way.

Now Draco was feeling sorry for himself, sulking up the stairwell, following Tracey Davis to the Astronomy tower. When they reached the top they circled about, checking over the entire space.

He didn't want to stop this thing he'd started with Granger but if he didn't… oh, he could just see it now – it would be the _end_ of the Malfoy pureblood dynasty.

A prickling thought occurred: what if that was a good thing?

"_Drake_," Tracey was cooing, stepping closer to him. "_Please_ come back to Earth. You've really been zoned out tonight, what's the deal?" He refrained from rolling his eyes.

"Nothing," he replied. "No deal. Just thinking a lot,"

"About what…?"

Draco groaned in agitation. "Just because I tell you I'm lost in thought, doesn't mean I want to give you the details,"

Tracey wasn't going to give up tonight. Her grin widened, her lashes fluttering over her blue eyes. "Perhaps I could give you a healthy distraction," she clutched his forearm, forcing him into her petite frame.

"Trace, _no_. I thought we'd been over this," he tried to pry her fingers away, but she wouldn't budge and only held on tighter. "I thought you understood."

Without his consent, she positioned herself in front of him on her knees and began unbuckling his trousers. "_Trust_ me, you need it Drake,"

"Stop that this instant!" he growled down at her, but she'd already gotten his pants disheveled at his knees, working on his briefs underneath. "Do you have any _idea_…? What about Theo, huh? Are you really gonna do this to the guy you dated for a year and half, our _friend_?" He couldn't believe the nerve of her. She released his half-limp manhood, which was only partly hard from how amped up he was with Granger only an hour ago.

"You're doing it to him too," she murmured, smacking her lips and putting her mouth around him.

Draco's head swung back in the mild pleasure this moment brought to him, but this was _not_ what he wanted. He grunted, frustrated as she skimmed her tongue along him, slowly swallowing him up again as she pumped him up and down. He was getting harder from what she was doing and immediately, he was drowning in his shame and regret.

Swiftly, he pulled himself out of her mouth and turned away from her as he readjusted his clothes. "Wh-What the _hell_…?" she was squeaking.

He harrumphed, "That's the last you'll ever get out of me Davis," the only reason he'd allowed it to go as far as he did was because of how out-of-whack he was feeling about Granger, about _everything_. He felt like such a shitty fucking friend right then, he wanted to jump off the tower to his death. "You better not say a word about this, I'm warning you."

"Alright, yeah…" she grumbled, clearly dissatisfied. Tracey wasn't going to wait around and walk back to the dungeons with him now, she surmised as she collected herself and made a break for the exit. "Just… I'll just… see you later."

And she was gone. Draco heaved a sigh of relief.

Damnit, why him?

Now he'd definitely have to follow through with plan B, and he _hated_ plan B.

He was still going to greet Hermione in the Lounge like he'd said he would but he wasn't going to try and bed her – he couldn't. He was going to have to make it so she wouldn't want to speak to him afterwards. Draco needed her to be thoroughly repulsed by him, needed her to never want to even _look_ at him again.

It was for the bloody best.

.oOoOoO0OoOoOo.

**AN**: So much angst! Yay, I love angst. I hope I'm doing it well, let me know you lovelies, you. Its midnight on Wednesday and I hope you're all having a fantastic week! :0)


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